Night on Fire (19 page)

He said, “Nobody's going outside yet. It's too risky. The National Guard's mopping up.”

Jarmaine took my hand and pulled me toward the sanctuary. I resisted for a moment, thinking of my parents, then realized it wouldn't do them any good if I got hurt.

We went into the sanctuary and made our way to the front, where we reclaimed our seats behind Gus. She finished a hymn and leaned down to us, beaming.

“I heard the news. Isn't it wonderful?”

There was a commotion at the back of the room. Dr. King, Reverend Abernathy, James Farmer, and Diane Nash were coming down the aisle, touching hands that were extended toward them. When they finally reached the front, Dr. King mounted the pulpit.

“Praise the Lord!” he shouted in a voice like a foghorn, and the crowd shouted back.

He told us that the governor had declared a state of martial law. The National Guard had been called out, and they were stationed outside the church.

The crowd roared.

Dr. King leaned in close to the microphone. “Brothers and sisters, I tell you that the law may not be able to make a man love me. But, by God, the law can keep him from lynching me.”

The crowd erupted again.

Dr. King spoke about freedom and hope and the state of Alabama. When he finished, Reverend Abernathy came forward, then James Farmer took his place. There must have been a dozen preachers, and all of them preached. Afterward Gus made music, and the people joined in. By the time the meeting ended, it was midnight.

That should have been the end of it, but there was more.

I wanted to see my parents and Grant. Jarmaine went with me and we tried to leave, only to find that the National Guard wouldn't let us out.

“Sorry,” said a young soldier stationed at the front door. “Protective custody.”

Jarmaine demanded, “Protection from what? The mob's heading home.”

The soldier shook his head. “I have orders.”

There were voices behind us. When I turned around, Dr. King stood there.

“I'm going outside,” he told the soldier.

“Sir—”

The young man moved to block the door, but Dr. King brushed him away and strode down the front steps. I tried to squeeze in behind, but the soldier grabbed my arm. As he did, I looked past him at the scene in front of the church.

At the bottom of the steps, Dr. King huddled with a tall, red-faced man who wore a helmet and a shoulder full of stripes. Beyond them, a ring of National Guardsmen with rifles held back the dwindling crowd. In the crowd were Grant and Mr. McCall. Daddy, Mama, and Lavender were next to them.

It was just a glimpse, but it was enough. They were there, waiting for us.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

The soldier pushed me back inside, where I found myself next to Jarmaine and a growing crowd, including Reverend Abernathy. A moment later the doors opened, and Dr. King came back in. Behind him was the soldier he had been speaking with outside.

Dr. King turned to Reverend Abernathy. “Ralph, this is General Graham. He showed me the governor's declaration. I've asked him to read it to the people.”

Nodding curtly to Reverend Abernathy, Graham followed Dr. King into the sanctuary. We tagged along to see what would happen, settling into our familiar spot behind Gus. She looked exhausted but kept playing anyway. According to my reckoning, she'd been at it for nine hours.

Dr. King led General Graham to the pulpit and motioned for Gus to stop. Graham unfolded a sheet of paper. The crowd leaned forward, waiting to hear the news of their release.

The general put on a pair of glasses and cleared his throat. “Whereas, as a result of outside agitators coming into Alabama to violate our laws and customs …”

Cries rang out as Graham continued. I thought of Diane Nash and the students. It was hard to think of them as outside agitators.

Graham, reading on, raised his voice so he could be heard. The declaration said that the federal government “… by its actions encouraged these agitators to come into Alabama to foment disorders and breaches of the peace.”

Someone called out, “We didn't breach the peace. They did!”

“Amen!” someone shouted.

Graham finished reading, then folded up the paper and put it into his pocket. “Folks, I didn't write it. I just enforce it. Now, I'm afraid you'll have to stay here a while longer. Get comfortable, because it looks like you'll be spending the night at church.”

There was a loud chorus of boos. I doubted that anyone had been booed in the church before, unless maybe it was Satan.

Graham set his jaw, and Dr. King led him back up the aisle. A moment later they were gone.

Muttering, the people settled in for the night. Some of them tried to sleep. It wasn't easy, because the pews were crowded, the sanctuary was sweltering, and the smell of tear gas hung over the place. Someone got the idea of taking the children to the basement where there was a cool floor and more room.

Dr. King disappeared into the church office for a while and finally came out, relinquishing the phone to a line of people who wanted to call home. Afterward he circulated through the church, encouraging the people and offering kind words. Through it all, Gus played—hymns of encouragement, then quiet chords and softer songs, music to sleep by.

During one of the songs I slid in next to Gus on the organ bench. “Are you all right? You look so tired.”

She smiled at me, her fingers never leaving the keys. “Honey, I'm past tired. I'm in another place. It's beautiful, isn't it?”

I looked up at the organ pipes and stained-glass window. The church certainly was beautiful, but I had a feeling that it wasn't the place Gus had in mind.

When I got up from the organ I didn't see Jarmaine. Then I looked down and spotted her sleeping under the bench, clutching a hymnal to her chest. I made my way around her, slipped off into the narthex, and climbed the stairs to the attic and the ladder to the tower. I closed the trapdoor behind me, then moved to a window overlooking Ripley Street.

The moon was rising in the west—half-white, half-black, not so different from the world I was learning to live in. Below, the National Guard was spread out along the front of the church, rifles ready, helmets glinting in the moonlight. Some of the crowd was gone, leaving a smaller group gathered outside the line of guardsmen.

I spotted Lavender and my parents, with Mr. McCall next to them. Grant handed them bottles of Coke and took a sip from his own as I watched. When he tilted his head, I waved.

“Grant!” I yelled. “Up here!”

Lowering the bottle, he stared, then pointed and excitedly told the others. They called to me, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. Watching their lips, though, I could make out one word. Through all the confusion, Daddy mouthed it:
Billie, Billie, Billie
, over and over again like a silent kiss.

I stayed there most of the night. I didn't sleep. I just wanted to see my parents and let them see me.

The air was still. The night was hot. The moon, climbing in the sky, turned pink and orange. As the sun rose, a convoy of jeeps and trucks drove up Ripley Street. The first driver got out and spoke with General Graham, who nodded and barked out orders to a nearby soldier. The soldier hurried up the steps and threw the church doors wide open, the way they were meant to be.

The long night was over.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

I hurried down to the open doors, where I watched the people streamed outside, like water over a dam. They laughed and cried and praised God, breathing in fresh air and tasting a kind of freedom.

Jarmaine, wide-awake now, was among them. I watched from the doorway as she ran down the steps. Lavender, waiting at the bottom, gave her a fierce hug, then grabbed her and shook her. I remembered that shake. It was no fun.

I hurried down after her, looking for my parents. Before my foot hit the street, something hit me. It was big and lanky, and there was a camera dangling around its neck.

“Billie! You're all right!”

Grant wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. I squeezed back, thinking of Forsyth's Grocery, baseball cards, Top 40 records, and the long road I had traveled.

I stepped away and looked up at Grant. “Get any good pictures?”

“A few. My dad let me come. He said it might be dangerous, but it was important.”

Mr. McCall stood nearby. “We're glad you're safe,” he told me.

Mama came running. “Oh, Billie.”

She threw herself at me and hugged so hard that it could have been a greeting or a punishment. Maybe it was a little of both.

She held me at arm's length. “Never ever run off again, you hear?”

I wasn't sure I could agree to that. I did know I was happy to see her.

Beyond her, holding the baby, stood Daddy. His eyes were red and puffy. He looked me up and down, drinking me in the way he had gulped a Coke the night before. I had always thought of him as strong, but that morning he looked small and sad.

“We were worried,” he said. “We didn't know where you'd gone. Then Grant spotted you on that bus. He told us about the meeting in Montgomery, and we decided to follow you.”

Mama added, “I called Lavender to watch the baby. She said Jarmaine was gone too.”

“I told them you and Jarmaine were friends,” said Grant. “We figured you must have gone together. Yesterday afternoon we drove to Montgomery in two cars. Lavender came with us.”

“Why did you leave?” Daddy asked me, almost pleading.

“I was tired of watching. I wanted to do something.”

Someone touched my arm. I looked around and saw Jarmaine with Lavender beside her.

I noticed Mama and Daddy staring at Jarmaine, and I realized the only time they had ever seen her was at the spelling bee, a thousand years ago. Lavender had cooked my meals and held me when I was sick, and they had never even met her daughter.

“This is Jarmaine Jones,” I told them. “She's my friend.”

“Jarmaine is an intern at the
Star,
” said Mr. McCall. “She helps me with research.” He turned to Jarmaine. “I hope you took good notes. We have a story to write.”

“We saw the Freedom Riders,” I said.

Daddy sighed.

I turned to him and said, “We saw their leader. Her name is Diane Nash. You know what? You'd like her.”

“Lord help us,” said Mama.

Daddy shook his head. “Those people are trouble.”

Lavender shot him a look I'd never seen before, proud and angry at the same time. It occurred to me that this was a different person from the one who worked at our house.

“Those people are heroes,” she said. “The world is changing, Mr. Sims. You'd best get used to it.”

He stared at her. After all those years, they were meeting for the first time. I wondered if the real Lavender would disappear again behind the mask. I hoped she wouldn't.

The world was changing. I was changing. Maybe Daddy could too. It wouldn't have to be a big change—just a little adjustment here and there. He might give Lavender a day off. Maybe he would let her park in the driveway. A thousand little changes—in my neighborhood, across my town, around my country—might equal a big change.

Mama, who had been studying me, took the baby from Daddy. “I'm tired. Let's go.”

“Not yet,” I said, glancing at Jarmaine. “There's one more thing we need to do.”

Jarmaine nodded, and the two of us climbed the front steps of the church. The bricks, glowing in the sunrise, seemed redder than ever. We moved through the crowd and into the sanctuary, which was nearly empty. Light filtered through the stained-glass window, throwing colors onto the church wall.

Among the colors, at the front of the room, Gus gathered up her music.

“Hey,” I said to her.

Gus looked around and saw us. “Hello, my dears.”

“How long did you play?” I asked.

She checked her watch. “Fifteen hours, give or take forever.”

“Did you reach that place you were going?”

“Honey, I live in that place.”

Jarmaine leaned over and, ever so gently, kissed Gus on the forehead.

“You are a rock,” Jarmaine told her.

Gus closed her eyes, as if enjoying a cool breeze. “I'm a very small rock. Maybe a pebble.”

“I rang the bell,” I told her proudly.

“Feels good, doesn't it?”

I flexed my fingers, remembering the roughness of the rope and the sound of the chime. I told her, “Thank you for helping us. Thank you for showing us the tower. Thank you for the bell.”

Gus said, “That old bell doesn't need help from me. It speaks for itself. You listened, that's all.”

Jarmaine picked up her basket, and we left First Baptist Church for the last time. Outside, our parents were waiting in an awkward group. The baby yawned, and I did too.

Mama chuckled. “Now it's time to go.”

“Hey,” said Grant, “we need a picture.”

He lined us up—Daddy and Mama with the baby, Lavender with Mr. McCall, Jarmaine and me in front. Behind us the church stood tall, its tower pointing toward heaven.

“Okay, smile,” said Grant. “At least, don't fall asleep.”

The camera flashed, and we turned to leave. We walked up Ripley Street, past worshipers and news reporters. In the dim morning light, it was hard to tell who was black or white. I wished the world were like that.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Believe it or not, I went to school that day. Word had spread about my trip to Montgomery, and people in the hallways had some things to say. I ignored them. I was too tired to listen.

That afternoon, I sat on the front porch waiting for Arthur the Arm, and he showed up right on time. Giving the paper a neat twirl, he tossed it at my feet. I waved my thanks and opened it up.

Capital Quiet, Tense

MONTGOMERY – Downtown Montgomery is quiet today—but it is an uneasy quiet, and there is a strong feeling of tension in the air.